


The Watering Can

by aizia



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: F/F, Korrasami Week Day One: Flowers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-18
Updated: 2015-09-18
Packaged: 2018-04-21 07:59:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4821428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aizia/pseuds/aizia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was just the woman left, now, who each Thursday paid for bundle of roses as red as her lips. She’d smile at Korra, tuck the flowers under a jacketed arm, and then leave in a shiny, black car, her hair just as shiny and just as black.</p>
<p>If it wasn’t for the woman’s consistent acquiring of red roses, and its obvious implication, Korra liked to think she would ask her for coffee.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Watering Can

 

Korra sat at the front register, straddling the back of a wooden chair pulled up to the counter. She flipped through her assigned reading for the second time that day, glancing at the pink analogue clock in the corner every time she read the same sentence twice. The evening was thick and slow, muggy heat keeping most indoors. Korra hadn’t had a customer at The Watering Can in nearly an hour.

 

She was expecting one more Thursday regular that night; the man who picked up yellow roses for his mother was long gone, and so was the old lady who bought bouquets of lilies for her kitchen. It was just the woman left, now, who each Thursday paid for bundle of roses as red as her lips. She’d smile at Korra, tuck the flowers under a jacketed arm, and then leave in a shiny, black car, her hair just as shiny and just as black.

 

If it wasn’t for the woman’s consistent acquiring of red roses, and its obvious implication, Korra liked to think she would ask her for coffee.

 

Later, when the sky began to set, bleeding colours of lilacs and irises, the shiny, black car pulled into the lot, and Korra put away her book. The woman opened the glass doors, two buttons of her blouse undone, and smiled her regular smile as she walked up to the front register. 

 

“A dozen of the usual?” Korra asked, slipping off her chair.

 

“That would be great, thank you.”

 

Korra set to work snipping stems, and then rolled up the twelve in shiny, blush-coloured paper. 

 

“Will that be all?”

 

“Yes, thank you.”

 

“Thirty-eight ninety-seven.”

 

The woman handed her two twenties and spoke while Korra was rounding out the change. 

 

“Korra. That’s a beautiful name.”

 

Korra dropped four quarters and three pennies into the woman’s open palm, remembering the freshly laminated name tag pinned just below her collarbone. 

 

“It suits you,” the woman added, her smile small, almost bashful.

 

Korra thanked her, and the woman didn’t leave the parking lot until she had winked at Korra through the front glass wall, dusk just barely lighting up her features.

 

Korra narrowed her eyes, unsure of what to think.

 

* * *

 

Korra had endured too much pain from cheating to ever see it as something tolerable. She supposed she had no proof, and she knew she was likely jumping to conclusions, but the woman’s compliments still made her uneasy, confusion and agitation mixing into something unpleasant. 

 

_Buying roses for a significant other and then flirting with the florist? Who did that?_

 

When the woman made her usual visit the next Thursday, Korra responded kindly to her praise — she had a reputation to uphold, after all — but the effort was becoming taxing.

 

Her resolve finally snapped when she found a note alongside the woman’s bills, a series of numbers written in swirly printing. 

 

“Why are you doing this?” Korra asked, half to herself, but the woman stopped halfway to the door and turned back around. 

 

“Me?” she asked.

 

“Who else?” Korra said, gesturing at the empty store. “You’re clearly with someone else. You can stop hitting on me, now.”

 

The woman furrowed her brows at the cement floor, as if trying to figure out a difficult math problem in its stains and cracks, and then her eyes widened almost comically. 

 

“Oh god, no. These flowers aren’t for anybody. I mean, they’re for somebody, but it’s not like that. They’re more of a symbolic gesture than anything.”

 

“A symbolic gesture?”

 

The woman nodded. “When my father was alive, he’d leave a dozen red roses at my mother’s grave every week. He’s been gone for a few years now, but the tradition is something I’ve decided to continue for him. Doing it… I feel closer to both of them.”

 

_Oh._

 

“I am so sorry, I didn’t realize —” 

 

“It’s alright. It would have been an easy assumption to make. I really should have said something.”

 

“I shouldn’t have assumed,” Korra said, guilt tugging at her. “Let me make it up to you. Free roses on your next visit?”

 

The woman smiled. “I’ll think about it. I’m Asami, by the way,” she said, starting for the door. 

 

“I am really sorry —”

 

“Honestly — don’t worry about it,” Asami said, turning the door’s handle. “I’ll see you around?”

 

Korra nodded, glad that at least she wasn’t angry. “Of course,” she said, and the door clicked shut.

 

* * *

 

Seven days later, Korra closed up shop at 10 o’clock, finally deciding that Asami would be a no-show. Her visits had been so consistent in the past that Korra found herself almost worried. 

 

Asami’s note card with her phone number still rested on the front counter, and for not the first time that day Korra considered texting her. She folded and unfolded the slip of paper six times before finally punching the number into her phone, sending a simple _Hey, it’s Korra from the flower shop. I noticed you didn’t come by today and I wanted to make sure you were okay._

 

Korra’s phone dinged not long afterwards.

 

_Hey Korra! I’m fine - had to stay late at the office. I’ll be coming in tomorrow morning for sure. Thanks for looking out for me, though! You’re sweet._

 

_Of course, no problem,_ Korra sent. _Can I ask you a question, though?_

 

_Sure._

 

_What’s your favourite flower?_

 

_Dahlias._

 

Satisfied with her answer, Korra decided she wouldn’t leave the shop for another hour or two.

 

* * *

 

Korra waited all of Friday morning in anticipation of Asami’s arrival, receiving encouraging comments from customers about the elaborate display of dahlias in the front window. 

 

Around noon, a black car pulled up to the lot, and Korra sat at the front register, waiting to watch Asami’s reaction. Asami grinned as her eyes fell to the display, and Korra caught her gaze in the window. She mouthed _you did this?_ and Korra nodded eagerly. 

 

Asami opened the front door, smile still growing on her face. “It’s beautiful,” she said, laughing. “But you know I don’t hold any grudge for what happened, right?”

 

Korra shrugged. “I know. It’s not just that. I also wanted to…”

 

“Woo me?” Asami asked, crossing her arms playfully.

 

“Maybe.”


End file.
